Chapter 27: Masochist

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Warning ⚠️ this chapter has sexually explicit scenes if you get triggered easily I wouldn't read I'll specify where it is located. Before reading. But if your fine then—

Read if you dare.

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Carol chuckled. I was not amused.

I laid down. Confused.

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The needle faded out of my consciousness as Blake sat on the edge of the bed.

I felt dirty. Really dirty. My stomach grumbled. My mind was blanked out.

My body wasn't reacting to anything.

Blake's lips were moving but I wasn't even paying attention anymore.

His crinkles to the perfect skin. At the corners of his eyes and his smile. Cheekbones soon. Having his diamond-like face. Jawline and stubble. The little black mark under his left eye. His nose pointy and a tad long. Lips redder than mine will ever be.

His chin protruding. His blue-purple veins on his eyelids. And forehead. And hands and arms and legs and feet and dick and body and body. And body.

I lost my shit.

Looking at such a man take every single thing away from me.

And having to bare with it for the rest of my life with him.

With Blake Adrienne.

What is there more to take? I thought. What is there more to take?

He will get bored and shoot me in the head.

I so badly wanted to ask him.

I wanted to get on knees and ask him what the fuck else man? But my body wouldn't withstand it anyway.

My mind would be more fucked up.

If not I am already.

"Blake stop please!"

I shut my eyes. Covering my face.

"Judy." He grabbed my arms pulling them away.

"Stop it, Blake. Stop it blake. Stop it blake." I mouthed. His hands intertwined with my own. Older hands. I shook pushing him off. He kept trailing his fingers along me. I kept pushing away. Felt like a tug and war battle.

"Stop it blake. Stop it blake. Stop it blake. Stop it blake. Blake stop please!"

I was so frustrated.
Staring at each other.

Oh, Blake.

What more can I take?

"What babycakes?" He asked.

I sighed.

"I need to shower please," I said.

He frowned. His wrinkles showing.

I never realized how old he actually looked.

He was resembling James a lot more.

That led to another question.

"Where is James, Blake?" I asked.

He swung our hands back en forth. Going closer to me on the bed.

"He's out." Was all he said.

I don't know who I was afraid of more anymore.

James had a fatherly sick love.

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